We're All Equal in Our Bad Luck
by Golden Bearded Dragon
Summary: Bad luck and unexpected revelations are quite the normal occurrence to those who seek adventure, and even more so to those that have adventure find them. Family is a curious thing, dreams are not at all important... And most of all: the Temujai have set their eyes on Camelot. (Non-Slash)
1. Next is Job 20:24

_**I don't own Merlin BBC, or Ranger-s Apprentice.**_

 _ **NOTE: For RA, this is set roughly a year after Horace and Cassandra's wedding. Also is less than two years after Emperor of Nihon-Ja.**_

 _ **For Merlin, this is set a short few months after the finale, with people not dying because I can do that on here. Morgana and Mordred are dead, though. And there might be a one shot coming of how Arthur's not dead.**_

 _ **Read this and like it, if not, I can just frame you for murder and steal your pets. :)**_

* * *

 _There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known._

 _Luke 12:2_

* * *

 **Chapter One: Allons-Y**

A strange figure clothed in a mottled cloak rode along a worn path on a nondescript horse, and the shaggy beast was small enough for some to have considered it nothing more than a pony with high ambitions. The rider did not stand out much more than his mount, but for a few points of interest. An impressive longbow slung over his shoulder, and a full quiver that rested against his back and shoulder. Any other weapons or strange items were not in full view.

If it weren't for the sun high overhead declaring the time of day to be midday, other passersby that happened upon that route would not have even noticed the cloaked man. Any shadows would have swiftly hidden his form and that of his horse.

Although, since it was midday, and all shadows would be at the feet of anything that dared to obstruct the summer sun: a passerby had spotted the cloaked man. Fortunately, this new rider, an apparent knight who was mounted on the back of a black battle horse, was a friend of the cloaked rider. The new man's broad torso and the unique insignia -a simple oakleaf- displayed on the shield attached to the rear of his horse clearly showed he was skilled at his craft. Not to mention the sword at his side, simple in design, but holding a deceptive strength and ingenuity of a genius's work and the art of smithing.

The shaggy horse slowed down, and the knight sped his own steed along to catch up with the man in front of him. Drawing level, the taller man grinned as he turned to face the one person he knew he could trust with anything, his long-time companion and comrade; confidant and military planner. His best friend.

"It's good to see you again, Horace." The cloaked man pulled back his hood, revealing a young face, putting his age close to that of the Knight he was riding alongside. He had disheveled hair and a short beard growing in, but what the Knight noticed most were the slight, dark colored circles under the man's eyes.

Horace knew his friend had been traveling for a good several months on a request from Crowley, the Commandant of the Ranger Corps, but a seed of worry planted itself into his mind. It wasn't so much that the shorter man looked merely tired -in fact, he was exhausted- it was that he had the presence of deep-seated weariness.

To see someone Horace knew as one of the strongest people he had ever met looking so… well, so _tired._ The discovery fueled that previous seed of worry, and renewed a feeling of panic over the reminder of some recent memories- not memories: dreams, Horace reminded himself. There were just dreams, and dreams had never caused anyone any harm.

Giving another grin, hoping that his friend wouldn't somehow guess what he was thinking -not that Will needed to know about some ridiculous nightmare right then, the two of them hadn't see each other for months and much catching up was in order- he questioned the man beside him good naturedly. "So, how did you know it was me who was riding up behind you?"

Ranger Will Treaty broke into a small, teasing grin, replying back with a raised brow as if the answer was obvious. "Horace, a deaf man could have heard you from a mile away. Only you could be so loud."

And a small part of Horace that couldn't help but doubt sighed with relief as he laughed out loud, because Will was still the same as always. Whatever had happened to the famous Ranger had not changed him, and they were together on another adventure. All was right in the world, and Horace could finally breathe.

"So, if you're done chortling like some kind of sickened mule, I'll just take a guess and say that you're joining me for this next little escapade?" Will let out an exasperated sigh, looking back over as the Oakleaf Knight quieted down.

He tried his best at a serious tone of voice, having to look away into the thick treeline surrounding the road so his friend couldn't see the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Does this escapade come with an almost certain chance of going wrong and an even higher chance of dying in a blaze of glory?"

Will tilted his head as he appeared to consider the query. "Probably," he answered simply, eyeing the man beside him, one brow already having been raised again.

Horace smirked, nothing had ever sounded more appealing to him. "Then let's go have ourselves an adventure."

"Oh, _definitely._ " The Ranger added. The knight glanced at him, knowing the slighter man had more to say. "Camelot has been known to have been the instigator of many adventures, if rumors are to be believed."

* * *

A quiet, yet rhythmic tapping sound rang throughout the room. The tempo fast and staccato, and somewhat grating on the ears. Or supremely grating, in the case of a young warlock.

Merlin looked up from the book he was studying and stared balefully at the annoying offender. He kept his unimpressed gaze until the man seated across from him noticed. It took longer than it should have, and a noticeable twitch had started to tick above his right eye.

Finally, King Arthur stopped the infernal rapping of his fingers and looked up, letting out a distracted sigh. The legendary King and powerful Warlock met eyes and Arthur frowned. "What is it?" He asked, slight confusion seeping into his clipped tone.

The two of them were sitting at Gaius's table, in the physician's home. The aged man was off performing his duties and going about his rounds, a circuit that had temporarily become more extensive due to recent events. Merlin had been researching as much as he could on anything related to the upcoming conference. Arthur decided to join in, but had only been staring at the wall blandly while twitching nervously the past hour.

Merlin slid the dusty book of records to the side, giving up reading it in favor of clearing up what it was that put Arthur on edge. "'What is it?' You tell me! Because, Sire- I mean, Arthur," he corrected at his friend's stern look. "There's something bothering you. And since I'm not going to get anything done with you in such a mood, you might as well tell me what it is." He tried to sound commanding, but Merlin's voice came out more worrying. He could sense the other man's trepidation as if it were his own.

Arthur linked gazes with the warlock and bit back another sigh. "Alright," he conceded. "I suppose you might have a point there." He broke eye contact and exhaled a breathy chuckle at his friend's obvious concern. "It's just, the past months have been especially hard for Camelot. The past few years, even."

Merlin nodded, understanding. "And with the Temujai and their coming invasion…" he prompted.

"I don't know how we will manage." Arthur concluded, the reluctant truth hurting him more than any cursed mortal blade. The King swallowed, forging on. "Erak Starfollower, the Oberjarl of Skandia, an alliance or even a meeting with him would help us. At least give us an idea on how to start fighting these men from the Eastern Steppes." The young man sighed, and the warlock in front of the King studied him. Arthur looked much older when he feared for the future of his kingdom. And added to that, there was a depth to his eyes that hadn't been there before Merlin had brought his friend back from his brush with death.

Merlin shook his head, getting those thoughts out of his mind. Arthur was alive, his destiny was alive, and he would not let himself fail either one. "No matter what happens, I will be there, by your side. Never forget that, Arthur." He said in earnest. Arthur's eyes brightened and the aged look in them left.

"I know, Merlin. Gods, I know that." Arthur responded quietly. Using his eyes to convey his gratitude, his love for the man -his brother in all but blood- that had done what many would not be willing to attempt to save him, king or not.

His best friend that had sacrificed a part of his very soul, to save Arthur's life.

The King coughed slightly, and rolled his shoulders to banish the tension that had suddenly sprung up in them. Merlin looked at him with understanding as if he could read what was in Arthur's thoughts. _Though_ , the King thought wryly, _the idiot probably could_. He definitely wouldn't put it past the warlock.

"So," Arthur commented after a brief silence, all too obvious that he wanted to distract himself from the previous trails his mind was taking him on. "What is it that you've got there?" He motioned to the all but forgotten book Merlin had shrugged aside earlier.

"Oh, this?" The former manservant pulled the heavy tome between the two of them and opened it up. The pages fell immediately to where he had last been reading it, despite there being no sign of a bookmark. "This right here is a record of what went on during the last time an Araluen noble came to Camelot." Merlin showed the book to Arthur with his finger pointing out the first paragraph. The date of the meeting was just a few short years after Arthur had been born, and the man's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"King Duncan." He breathed out, as he read who was at the meeting, the King of Araluen was the only one who stood out. Him and some random noble with the unfortunate name of Arratay. "He was here, but why did Camelot and Araluen never-"

Merlin cut him off with an almost melancholic shake of his head. "Keep reading, Arthur."

The King listened, but he told himself that it was only because Merlin was now an advisor of sorts.

And as he read, Arthur could feel dread filling him. He knew how much his father had, almost to the point of insanity, despised all things magic. How could he not? It was everything when he was growing up. But Arthur had to admit, even this seemed just a little too far to push.

The previous King of Camelot had blatantly antagonized a visiting royal, and went on to insult a group of his loyal supporters. Uther had suggested they were all dark sorcerers merely out to trick the young King into a false sense of security. Even going so far to imply that they had been in league with the Dark Lord Morgarath. The man who had just been driven out not even a year previously to the meet gone wrong after the madman had tried to take over Duncan's kingdom. Arthur's father must have been mad to even propose such an outlandish thing.

Sure, Arthur had gone throughout his life hearing many a tale and strange rumor about the farther countries. And many of the most interesting had been the ones about the famous King's Rangers of Araluen. People who were fantastically well skilled with longbows and knives, and who could disappear into thin air at will. But they were just rumors. Wives' tales that never truly held any ground.

Apparently his father had a rather contrasting opinion. Seeing as in the transcripts, King Duncan and his entourage left Camelot early the next morning. A footnote with a more recent date stated that the Araluen King had declined immediately any more invitations for talks or an alliance in all the years since.

Arthur Pendragon groaned. "And just how are we going to deal with an advance party from Araluen? Why, Merlin, _why_ , had the Skandians only agreed to speak with us on the condition that we brought in another party?" The situation was too much to bear in that instant, and the young King lowered his head none too gently against the surface of the table. He repeated the action once more before giving up with one more sound of intense agitation bursting out of his throat.

Merlin chuckled at the King, despite the situation. Arthur glared heatedly at him for daring to find amusement in his pain. "Don't give up hope yet, _Sire,_ " Merlin added extra emphasis to the title, just to annoy his friend. "I'm certain Araluen wouldn't have agreed to even send out anyone if they didn't at least trust Camelot enough not to kill them on sight."

Arthur, surprisingly enough, didn't look at all encouraged.

"We'll just have to show them how different you are from your father. Show them how great of a king you've become." Merlin faced The Once and Future King with a positive grin. "I have no doubt that you can do this, Arthur."

Appearing more confident than he felt, Arthur smiled back. "Whatever happens, I'm glad you've got my back, _Mer_ lin."

Because truly, even amongst all of his knights, his beautiful wife, and the citizens of his kingdom that he loved… Merlin was the one and only person who made Arthur feel like he belonged. They had a bond that would never be broken, and even though that terrified him, the King of Camelot would never give it up for the world.

* * *

"Five archers down," the dark haired man panted, quickly glancing around with brown eyes full of suspicion at every shifting shadow hiding in the treeline. "Now, where's the final sixth?" Will's voice came through a haze of panic as the Ranger glanced around the clearing. The panic wasn't coming from him, though, but from his friend. His friend who had heard those same words time and again, to the point where he could do nothing but despise them.

Horace was frozen, his limbs like lead, as once again he watched his best friend die.

The movement came from the left, in the dense forest ahead of the group of foreign knights who had just begun to relax from defeating their foe. The small battle was won, and there hadn't been anything else for them to worry about.

But Horace knew. He knew what came next, and he knew the ensuing pain it would cause him.

Will pivoted, and it was as if time slowed down just to torture the one who was witnessing the display. The Ranger drew back his bow instinctively as he was turning toward the barely noticeable fluctuation in the shadows, and he released smoothly. His aim was true, and his arrow would hit his target dead center.

Oh, how Horace wished that was where this ended. He wished even more that he could somehow find a way to close his eyes to what came next, but he never could.

Because as soon as Will Treaty -the single most bravest man the knight had ever known- released his arrow, the sixth archer had released his own. Will stumbled, and he rotated slightly as he fell, with Horace finally freed from his paralysis and running in time to watch as his friend's form hit the ground. He could now see the distinctive shaft of the Temujai weapon; it had pierced the man's chest, just below the ribcage and slightly to the left side. Luckily, or unluckily, the arrow had not passed through and penetrated out the back.

Horace was sprinting towards Will, but no matter how much he pushed his muscles to greater speeds, extending their limits, his friend was still out of reach. Helplessness seized him as he felt the overwhelming fear that he would not make it in time. That his friend would die because he couldn't save him. That any effort he made to prepare himself for this moment would be in vain.

Everything suddenly went black and Horace found himself awake, beside a familiar campfire and in a cold sweat. The dark of night was thick, and the Oakleaf Knight attempted to quiet his heavy breathing as he rolled over onto his back.

For the past several months, Horace had been plagued intermittently by this single, vivid night terror. The first few times it came he ignored it, setting it aside by saying he just needed to relax more and keep his mind from being so anxious. He believed they would leave eventually, but they didn't. The dreams clung to him, and Horace decided that he had to do something to appease his conscience or he would go insane. So he did. Horace did the only thing that made sense to him, the only thing that struck him as a logical way to deal with his problem.

 _That one had been a little different than the usual_ , Horace thought back on the recent ordeal. All the others had ended with him cradling a cooling body, anguish and sorrow claiming his mind. But this dream, this nightmare, had been missing an ending.

He only hoped that his plan would work, in the case that what he saw would actually happen. Because dreams were only dreams, were they not?

* * *

Will's fist gripped tightly the fabric of the mottled cloak near his hand, witnessing as his friend forced himself to calm down from a nightmare. The Ranger only allowed himself to begin to relax when Horace's breathing evened out again nearly half an hour later, showing the signs he was returning to restful unconsciousness.

Shrugging his shoulders lightly, Will reminded himself that he was on watch, and that staring at his friend would not take away his pain. Even though it was the bulkier man's own affair, he wished that Horace would share what was on his mind. Though, the way the knight had tried diligently to stay hushed after awakening, Will knew the man did not want to voice what was troubling him.

Sighing as he made an uncannily noiseless circuit around the small camp, the Ranger made up his own mind about how to handle the situation. Will decided that he would confront Horace in the morning, and would not let himself be distracted. One way or another, Will was going to help Horace put an end to what was tormenting him.

* * *

Looking back, Gwaine should not have even been surprised by the situation he currently found himself experiencing. The very stupid and possibly deadly situation, one that he deeply regretted finding himself in. Just who else but him could get themselves into such a predicament? Gwaine couldn't think of anyone. Probably because no one had quite his amount of luck. Or, quite his type of luck.

Gwaine had merely been wandering the lower town, on his way to a tavern for a... _light_ drink. He wasn't even looking to get into a drunken brawl.

But alas, he spotted a completely suspicious character making for the forest, and Gwaine could not deny his curiosity- er, duty. His duty as a Knight of Camelot, that of course involved following strangers creeping in wooded areas.

His mistake, though, had been going alone. As Gwaine had unfortunately found out, from all but stumbling in upon the camp himself, was that he was severely outnumbered.

Pulling uselessly at the stern ropes binding him bodily to a rather large tree, the knight reminded himself to never be so incredibly stupid again. Gwaine promised that if he survived, he would never get drunk again. Of course, he'd made the very same vow many times before to no avail, at least with the getting drunk thing, the whole 'staying alive' part had obviously kept working so far.

He was not wanting to die just yet, not when finding out Merlin had magic could open so many new doors -literally and figuratively- in his halfwit schemes. The thought of all the pranks that he had yet to pull filled Gwaine with a yearning to be free and safe away from these men.

He doubted the Temujai that had abducted him would let him go if he shared his reasons for them to do so. Also, seeing as they sent out scouts and assigned a generous amount of sentries around the camp, the knight guessed he was the least of their worries. It was easy to tell that they didn't want him for any knowledge that he could possess about Camelot. They were waiting for someone else.

The focused and determined men of the enemy camp paid him no notice. He was perturbed by their actions, and knew he had to escape before they merely killed him for being a hindrance. He wasn't a hostage, that he knew, and he wasn't being used as bait either, that he gathered from the busy attitudes of the encampment; the way they all seemed to be concentrating on the roads leading _to_ Camelot, not from.

Gwaine was only there because he followed a scout back to his base, being caught in the process. Caught and injured, he reflected as his leg gave a painful twinge. Grimacing, he frowned at the simply bandaged wound on his left calf. The gash was a bit more than an annoyance, but he knew he could walk -or more likely, run- on it, if he managed to get away.

The knight leaned his head back against the tree behind him, staring at the sky. What he didn't yet understand was why he was still alive. Gwaine had been captured many times before and always for a reason. Just being in the wrong place at the wrong time -without even a wrong drink- made for a pretty sad way to die. Not to mention there was no reason for him to still be there. The Temujai had no reason to keep him alive.

As much as it relieved him to know he wasn't going to be interrogated or tortured by these men, Gwaine had an uneasy feeling about what their plans were for him. After all, the Temujai were most definitely expecting someone.

* * *

 _ **I hope y'all liked this beauty of mine. :) There will be more, since this is just a prologue. But I'll have you know, updates will be inconsistent.**_

 _ **I'm sorry to anyone reading my other stories, I'll finish them eventually. This really put me in a headlock.**_


	2. not quite the Job verse

**_Notes at the bottom, don't own._**

* * *

The sun was just rising, hinting at the end of his watch, when Horace woke up Will. The Ranger stretched and stared at Horace for a moment with an expressionless face before softening to a smile.

"Good morning." Will greeted.

Horace frowned as Will turned to pack up his camp supplies so they could set off out of their small clearing and towards the road. "Doesn't feel like a good morning at all," he muttered. Because it really didn't. Something in the very air felt off to him. Something similar to the feeling he got when in a fight and an enemy aims a weapon at his blind spot, like a… an intuition. He just knows things at times with such a familiarity that it scares him.

They ate breakfast on the road. Some dried meat and water taken from a nearby stream. Horace and Will traveled for almost two hours when they spotted it. Well, more like when Will spotted it. Footprints leading into a wooded area, footprints that came from a well traveled road that obviously led to a small town or village. What made ordinary footprints so notable was that whoever left them had covered them up. Quite skillfully, too. But not skillfully enough to fool a Ranger.

"What do you think, Horace?" Will asked from his spot on the ground where he had dismounted to study the tracks closely. He ran his calloused hand over a snapped branch. "Should we follow them?"

Horace sighed dramatically. "You're going to follow them with or without me. So I might as well go with you." Then he grinned and dismounted as well, both their horses knowing to stay put in the lightly wooded area they were left in. "Someone needs to watch your back, and I'm the most experienced with that particular action for miles around."

So the tracking began. It was slow going. But half an hour in, Will realized another thing about the trail they were following. "They have a prisoner."

"I don't like this. Not this close to Camelot."

Will turned to Horace and said seriously. "This might very well be bandits. But with our luck…" he left the ending open.

"It might be a Temujai encampment." Horace finished.

Both took a deep breath and turned back to the woods with new determination. Whatever lay at the end of the trail Will discovered, they would face it together.

Ten minutes later and they cautiously approached where campfire smoke could be seen rising towards the sky. Will motioned for Horace to stay where he was, then he quickly checked that his gear and the hood of his cloak were in the right place. When he was suitably satisfied, he disappeared from view. Pretty much literally.

Horace waited against a tree trunk, breathing deeply and scanning the surrounding trees for when his friend would reappear with news that he dreaded and yearned to hear. Hopefully it was just bandits. But when had fate ever been kind?

* * *

"They should be arriving any day now." Arthur said as he paced back and forth along the floor of his chambers. "I have no idea who they're sending or how to welcome them." Running his hands through his hair, the King huffed in irritation.

"What is it that we can do to welcome them?" Guinevere asked her husband patiently.

"That's just the thing, I don't know." He pulled out a chair at the table his wife was already sitting at, and sat himself down defeatedly. Suddenly struck with an idea, Arthur sat up quickly and turned to face her. "Wasn't marrying into royalty similar to a culture shock to you? What helped you adjust?"

Guinevere raised both eyebrows at her husband. "I suppose it was a culture shock. I certainly felt like an outsider." She said softly. At his concerned look she gave him a fond smile to let him know all was well.

"What helped me was to have someone who patiently and gently went over what I needed to know; such as the laws, their meanings, and most importantly, how to dress well and insult people politely." She shifted her weight in his direction. "Luckily, I had a very handsome man to teach me."

"Oh? Who would that be?" He said, voice low and lips twitching with amusement.

"I'd rather not say. Wouldn't want him getting a big head. Well, a bigger head."

"Oh, come on. Who?" Arthur took her hand and held it between his own, playing with her fingers.

She rolled her eyes at his behavior. "Well, if you insist. The one who taught me was my sweet, strong, brave husband." Guinevere could almost feel him preen under the praise. He could be so adorable at times.

In one swift movement, Arthur leaned towards her and kissed her, making her laugh. They both thought they were the lucky one, to have the other.

Then he went back to his serious thinking face. "Patient and gentle. And knows about how the kingdom works…" he stopped. Then turned towards her with a smirk.

"Merlin." Arthur and Guinevere said at the same time.

"He's the perfect choice to meet with whoever shows up and talk to them about how we work." Arthur added on.

"He's definitely a good choice. He also has the added bonus of not being biased against magic, if that is indeed in practice in Araluen." Guinevere added herself, thinking about the documents that entailed the last meeting between the two countries decades ago.

"Therefore less likely to cause a bigger rift between our countries!" The King pressed his lips to his Queen's cheek before quickly leaving to share his decision with Merlin. After a quiet yet sincere 'thank you', he rushed out the door.

Guinevere watched with a grin, wondering with humor how the Court Sorcerer would take this new responsibility.

* * *

Merlin was not handling this well.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. _No_." Suddenly he was put under the pressure of representing Camelot to one to five people from another country.

The message wasn't very specific, but the deliverer - apparently also a traveling singer of some sort with a wooden leg - said something about 'one riot, one Ranger', whatever that means.

"Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. _Yes_." Arthur responded only a tad mockingly.

"Nope. Not happening."

"Yep. And it is happening. That's final."

Merlin groaned. How was this his life?

* * *

Gwaine was pretty sure that the wound on his leg was infected by now. Stupid invaders. Now he was definitely going to have some pretty bad scarring. He tilted his head to the side in thought, maybe the new scars would benefit him. Women liked tough men. Frowning, he turned his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

One, he was tied up very well. Two, no one knew where he was, and they might not even miss him for another day at least, considering how he was known to get drunk and sleep it off at an inn somewhere before heading back. Three, the men who had captured him were looking at him in annoyance more and more often, sometimes leading to heated arguments with who he thought were the superiors of the group of about two dozen men. And four, well, he didn't have anything else to add but Gwaine thought he should emphasize just how screwed he was.

He stared of into the trees and decided to wait for either death (likely) or rescue (unlikely). That's when he saw movement. Something that seemed natural but not at the same time. Weird.

Then, right as soon as the camp's watch changed shifts, a man in a cloak just straight up materialized out of the shadows. Gwaine didn't make any noise, because he didn't see the point, and because the man held both hands out in gesture of peace.

"Who are you?" The knight whispered as quietly as he could. The other man pulled his cowl back slightly to show his face to Gwaine. Half sure he was going to see the wrinkled face of some sorcerer, he was surprised when he was met with a young man that looked half a decade younger than him. And someone that oddly reminded him of Merlin, but he couldn't place how.

"My name is Will, and a friend of mine and I will get you out of here." The young man, Will, said softly. "I'm a Ranger." He said in clarification.

Gwaine's eyes widened. "I've never seen a Ranger before."

"That's the thing about Rangers. We aren't seen unless we want to be." Will grinned, and that was where the resemblance to Merlin stemmed from.

The potential new friend of Gwaine's turned his attention back towards the camp. He saw something the knight didn't, and started backing away towards the shadows again. "I'll be back tonight. Don't die."

Gwaine wasn't planning on dying, not now that there was a chance he could get out of there alive.

* * *

Merlin was worried. Gwaine had been missing for a day. He had a funny feeling about the situation. And a part of him, despite this very same thing happening countless times, was scared that the man might be in serious trouble.

So that is why Merlin was looking for Arthur.

He finally found him in the armory talking to his knights about how to properly greet a diplomat. They already know the drill, but Arthur apparently was not going to take any chances.

"Arthur."

The King turned around and took in Merlin's worried expression and immediately turned serious. He had learned through experience that listening to the warlock was very important to Camelot's survival. "What is it?"

Merlin swallowed thickly and replied, "Gwaine is gone."

"And you're having some kind of funny feeling over it, aren't you?"

Merlin nodded.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. That idiotic drunkard. If the man wasn't one of his dearest friends, he would leave him to face whatever mess he got himself into. The King waved Leon, Percival, and Elyan over and addressed them. "Gwaine may be in trouble."

"When is he not in trouble?" Elyan said jokingly.

Arthur quieted him down with an annoyed stare. "Merlin thinks Gwaine might actually be in serious trouble. I want the three of you to search for him."

The Once and Future King turned to his Warlock and asked him, "Will that be enough?"

Merlin tilted his head, looking as if he was listening to a voice only he could hear. "Yes. But they will have to find him soon. Before dawn." It was noon. They had less than a day to find their comrade.

"Shouldn't we have you come with us?" Leon asked Merlin.

"No. It wouldn't make a difference. If anything, my presence would change what's going to happen for the worse." Merlin answered morosely. He desperately wanted to search for his friend. But you can't bargain with fate. It only ends with grave consequences. Whatever will be, will be.

* * *

Will and Horace waited until dark and then moved in on the camp. Horace stayed in the same spot he had earlier in the day while Will continued forward.

The Ranger quickly found a spot within his sight to observe the camp, more specifically, the positioning of the watch. When he had them in his sights, he crept closer to the nearest one, the one who had the Camelot knight in view. The guard was also in a spot that obscured him just the slightest from his companions.

Will grabbed him and dragged him backwards into the shadows. One hand over the man's mouth and the other he used to knock him out. Slowly lowering the Temujai into the tall grass, Will turned to cross the short distance to the knight. A knight that was looking at him with wide eyes, but also a large grin.

"You came back." The bearded man said quietly but with feeling.

"Of course I did. I said I would." Will answered, barely above a whisper. Frowning at the bandage on the other man's leg, Will asked, "Are you capable of walking on your own?"

The knight nodded. "Don't worry about me, I'm very stubborn."

"Most knights I've met are." Will grinned. "Now be quiet, we don't have much time before they will discover us." The Ranger took out his saxe knife and started on the ropes. When he was free, the knight rubbed his arms and wrists. Will motioned for the knight to follow him.

That was when all hell broke loose. Another Temujai that was walking towards the treeline spotted them and raised the alarm before Will's arrow could peirce his chest.

Will cursed. "Run!" He instructed.

* * *

 **Wow, two years? I'm so sorry. There was a lot going on, I started college and a bunch of other stuff in real life that took a definite priority. But I've got some free time so I've decided to update my stories. If I'm lucky, this will be finished by the end of the month. No promises, though.** **Also, sorry for the short chapter! I'll make the next ones bigger, but they will take a little longer to finish (this one took about two days).**

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know about any scenes you want to see, and if I like them, I'll incorporate them in here.


	3. Still not the Job verse

_**Don't own.**_

* * *

Horace was bored. There was no other way to define it. But it wasn't a lazy boredness, but one that was filled with anxious tension. Finding the Temujai camp felt like a sign that his nightmare could mean more. Oh, he hoped with everything that was in his being that it did not. He sighed as he ran his hand along Kicker's side. They had brought the horses with them further into the forest than before, in case they needed a quick getaway. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Camelot's capital was a day's ride away.

Time to think, Horace thought. Priorities. What did he need to get done while he was in Camelot? First, make sure Will didn't die. He spent countless hours studying about arrow wounds and traveling to Macindaw to speak with the healer Malcolm about what was best when it came to first treatment for an arrowhead that hadn't pierced all the way through the body.

The visions he had were as useful as they were horrible. The intricate details of the nightmares over the past several months had helped him learn. Helped him have a chance of, not thwarting, but finding the loopholes of fate. The two weeklong ride over to Camelot with Will had given him hope, because the nightmares had stopped, until last night. But even then, the nightmare was missing an ending, a definite change from before. That meant he had a chance, that his intervention could save his friend.

Priority number two, finding out what stance Camelot had on magic. He'd heard rumors that they recently decided to welcome magic users with open arms, but he'd also heard that King Arthur's manservant was a powerful warlock, so he wasn't sure what to believe. He had promised Emperor Shigeru that he would find out what he could about magic, and that included looking into someone called the Dragon Lord. He wasn't sure he believed in dragons, but they were a part of Nihon-Ja's culture, and he respected that.

Priority number three, defeating the Temujai, which really should be priority number two, but Horace disregarded that. Because first and foremost, Will's life was what was important. And second, Shigeru was a good friend as well, and that wouldn't take as long as planning for a battle so he could get the information gathering done without too much hassle. But in all seriousness, the Temujai were bad news and he would fight them whether or not Camelot was filled with stuck-up idiots.

Still caught up in his thoughts, Horace was startled (though he would never admit it) when he heard hurried footsteps heading straight towards him. He gripped the pommel of his still-sheathed sword and got into a ready stance.

Horace was greeted with the relieving yet alarming sight of Will running full pelt with an unfamiliar knight trying his best to keep up behind him.

"Horses, now!" Will shouted, aiming and shooting an arrow swiftly behind him to take down a Temujai that was getting too close for comfort. Horace didn't need to be told twice.

Will mounted Tug gracefully while Horace did the same slightly less gracefully as he helped the other knight to sit behind him. "By the way, I'm Horace."

"Gwaine." The Camelot knight responded, clutching his leg with one hand and grimacing slightly in pain. "Pleasure to meet you."

"And I'm Will." The Ranger said unnecessarily. "Now that we're all acquainted, can we focus on not getting killed?" Will's tone was impatient.

Horace grinned as they took off, feeling alive. Every so often Will would turn in his saddle and let loose an arrow into the trees behind them. They rode for several minutes before Horace had to say something.

"Just like old times, isn't it?" He yelled over the pounding of the horses' hooves. Will turned to look at him with an incredulous expression.

"That's not necessarily encouraging." Will said in return. Horace only laughed in response.

That concluded the conversation for the next half hour while they focused on losing their followers. After they had made a sufficient distance away, Will had them go ahead while he covered their tracks, instructing them to take the most unobtrusive way towards Camelot - which Will had already planned out when he started his journey - and that he would meet up with them when they stopped to make camp. Horace didn't want to leave Will alone, but his logic made sense and would ultimately be better for evading the Temujai.

"Just promise me you won't die." Horace said to Will quietly when the three of them had dismounted for a short break before they would split up. Gwaine was taking the time to rebandage his leg with proper supplies courtesy of Will.

Will's eyes met his with a strong resolve. "I will do my best."

* * *

Leon frowned as he watched the bartender shrug.

"I 'aven't seen him. Might be good to as' the kids who tend to the horses. They usually see ev'ryone who comes by." The overly large man pointed a thick finger in the direction at the entrance to the small town that Gwaine usually inhabits when he goes on a drinking spree.

"Thank you." The knight said distractedly while he set a coin on the counter as payment for the information. He then joined Elyan and Percival outside.

"Any luck?" Elyan asked.

"Only a suggestion to ask the stable boys." Leon said as he stretched his back. They had been riding for half the day and this was the second town they stopped at.

Percival had been silent throughout the entire trip so when he spoke up, the other two listened intently. "Do you think he might actually be in trouble?"

Leon and Elyan shared a look, then Elyan decided to answer the question as they walked in the direction of the stables. "I would say that he's probably just passed out in a ditch somewhere. But Merlin has good instincts and I trust him."

"And what about you, Leon?" Percival asked the third knight and leader.

"What about what?"

Percival caught Leon's arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Do you trust Merlin?"

Leon sighed and Percival let go of him, narrowing his eyes as he did so. "I think I do. There's a lot of adjustment and it came as a surprise. By all reason and from the training I've had, I should hate him. Yet, I don't. Because he is still the same Merlin who we've all known for so long. Still the same Merlin who was the only one out of all of us who knew how to cook a decent meal while we were on the road."

"Still the same Merlin who is able to make friends wherever he goes." Elyan added.

"And still the same Merlin that has saved our lives countless times." Percival finished. Leon and Elyan nodded their agreement.

They arrived at the stable. Leon waved over one of the stable boys who was heading in their direction. "Have you happened to see a knight with a bad haircut and unkempt facial hair?" This description made the other two knights grin.

The boy hummed in thought. "Yeah, I might've seen someone that fits. He left his horse here two nights ago. Hasn't returned since."

"Any idea where he could have gone?" Percival inquired.

"I don't, but I'll ask Toby if he knows. He keeps an eye on a lot of people." The boy responded. He then took a deep breath and yelled, "Toby! Someone to see you!"

A smaller boy, several years younger than the first, ran into view. "Yah, Fred?" He said as he caught his breath. His hair was red and untamed, and he had a light sprinkling of freckles.

"Some knights wanna talk to you." The first boy clapped his hand in the back of the second and left.

"Oh. Okay." Toby looked nervous.

The knights shared a look before Percival took the lead, he was the best with children. And this kid couldn't have been more than ten years old. "We're looking for our friend Gwaine, he's missing. The other bo- _Fred_ said that he came by here."

The boy, more like child, had tilted his head when Percival said Gwaine's name. Then, when the knight had finished talking, he asked "He looked like you, right?" Gesturing to their red cloaks with the Pendragon crest on them. Percival nodded. "Then I know him. His horse is over here, follow me!" He took off further into the stables.

The knights followed. And it was indeed Gwaine's horse that was there. The saddle bag and all the rest of his belongings laying down on clean straw at the far end of the stall. This didn't feel right. _Two days_ , Leon thought with a frown. He needed to find some answers.

"I heard that you see pretty much everybody who comes by. Anyone strange that seemed suspicious that came by around the same time our friend was here?" Leon asked the small boy.

Suddenly the child stilled, eyes going wide and breathing becoming faster. Percival quickly bent down to his level and rubbed circles on the boy's back, Toby leaning into the touch and sniffling.

"I'll take that as a yes." Elyan said quietly to Leon, who nodded in agreement. They both watched as Percival managed to calm the boy down in only a few minutes. When Toby was sufficiently levelheaded again, he wiped the tears from his face and turned to them and straightened his back. He seemed determined not to cry again.

"I… I saw this man. He was strange. I heard him talk when he bumped into Fred's old man, it was just under his breath but I heard it. I've got good ears, y'know." Toby said seriously, making sure they knew that. "But it sounded weird. He had an ax- an acc-"

"An accent?" Elyan suggested.

"Yeah, that! But one that I'd never heard before. It wasn't in any language I ever heard neither. And I've met a lot of people." The child ended, contemplatively, as he petted the side of a passing horse that was being led by one of the older boys. "And he… my friend Sean that works at the inn said that he was out walking to find some sassafras roots."

"Sassafras roots?" Leon whispered to himself, not sure where this was going.

"It's a root that when brewed it makes a sweet tasting drink. Children especially like it." Elyan filled him in.

Percival frowned at them from over his shoulder for being distracting. They stopped talking.

"He was gathering it for the kids that live it town, he's an adult but always gets along with us because he's kinda like a kid himself. Some people are like that, nobody knows why." The boy scuffed his feet on the ground.

"Yah, so some men caught him and, Sean said that he could barely understand them, they told him to go back into town and get a map. That they would let him go if he promised to bring back a map, a really good map." Toby let out a shuddering breath and continued. "He told me about that right after he stole one of the maps from a traveler staying at the inn. Then he left and no one's seen him since. That was yesterday."

Percival gave him a soft hug and the boy clung to him for a moment before taking in a big breath and pulling himself together again. The knight gave him another squeeze.

"You did very well. Good job." Percival told him. "Thank you." Then he handed him a gold coin. Toby's eyes went very round, and he took the coin with a look of awe on his face before stowing it away in his clothes.

"Thanks!" He said as he dashed away, most likely heading home to show his family what he had be given.

Leon found the first boy they had talked to and said they would be taking the horse and would pay for the stable fees. There was some resistance but with another look at the Pendragon Crest on their cloaks, the boy shrugged and gestured towards the horse and told them what was due. They paid him, saddled the horse, and were on their way.

Now they had a lead to follow.

"I would take a guess and say that it's all connected. The ones who captured his friend and the foreign man who was in town." Leon offered.

"The Temujai?" Elyan questioned.

"Coincidences have rarely ever existed in Camelot." Their leader answered. "But at least now we know that they are close by. Likely not more than a few hours away."

"And where they're at," Percival added, "Gwaine likely is as well."

They mounted their horses, Percival trying a lead rope to Gwaine's horse, and headed out. And hours went by with intermediate talking and short stops for rest.

It was dark when they decided to make camp. They were uneasy because of how little progress they had made. But they had agreed to stop for the night because continuing with no idea where to go could be less than helpful.

Leon and Elyan used the moonlight to set out bed rolls. Percival had gone into the forest to look for firewood. They planned on having a small fire, arranged to let loose as little smoke as possible. They didn't know where the enemy was, but they were close enough to the road that it was unlikely they would be near enough that the fire would bring attention. Bandits and enemies usually kept their camps away from roadways so they wouldn't be spotted as easily by patrols.

It was when Leon was about to light the torches that a voice spoke up from the shadows.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Elyan drew his sword. Leon turned around, dropping the torches, and unsheathed his own blade. They both stared out into the forest in the direction that the voice came from.

"Who goes there? Show yourself." Leon said, feeling the familiar beat of his heart that signaled its readiness for a fight.

The form of a person materialized from between the trees. The two knights tensed in ready positions.

The cloaked figure pulled back his hood and held up his hands in a peace-keeping gesture. "Hey, hey, I'm not here to harm you. I'm a King's Ranger of Araluen. My name is Will Treaty."

* * *

Will sighed. It was a few hours before dawn, and he made his way by the bright moonlight. He had covered up their tracks as best he could, and set up a few decoys to lead away from the direction his two companions were actually heading in.

While he traveled to meet up, he thought about his priorities. Number one was to help Horace with whatever was going on with him. Recent events from the missions Crowley has sent him on have given him some suspicions but nothing conclusive could be found out until his friend decided to confide in him. But he strongly suspected magic was involved, as much as the skeptic in him was reluctant to believe in it.

Priority number two, find out if Camelot has really lifted the ban on magic. This is especially important because of the recently discovered factions of Druids that had taken sanctuary in Araluan for the past thirty years. Once this was found out, Crowley had sent him to find these factions and connect them with the others. The process took months, but once it had started, it went surprisingly well. They were kind and welcoming and the more groups Will found, the easier it was to find the rest. This was priority number one because the vast majority of the Druids were set on returning to their homeland.

Priority number three, which really should be priority number one, but Will wasn't sure how much he cared yet, was to make sure the diplomatic meeting went well and that Camelot got the help they needed. He was there to determine if the Temujai really were invading, and to what extent, and if it would be safe for Erak to have a meeting with the King of Camelot. If it was safe, then they would send a message through messenger hawk to the Oberjarl. The hawk had been sent back with the party of Camelot knights that had traveled to Skandia to ask for assistance.

And last but not to be forgotten was to find out what in Gorlog's beard that giant dragon he met when traveling to different Druid encampments was talking about. Honestly, Will wasn't sure that he wanted to know. Dragons shouldn't talk. That really harmed his beliefs about magic not being real. It was something about family and how he had a relative. And how Will would have a chance to take a small part in saving Avalon. It was cryptic as hell. And the humungous reptile set one of his perfectly good cloaks on fire just because Will wasn't paying attention and was trying to ignore the apparent hallucination.

Will huffed and muttered under his breath at the memory, "I'm really starting to hate Crowley." Because he wouldn't be part of this mess, wouldn't even have been involved in the Druid situation and subsequently picked to be the best one to be sent to Camelot, if it weren't for the commandant.

Tug tilted his head to the left in the subtle way he was trained to point out something, snorting lightly as if to say, _Are you awake? Pay attention, there's someone over there._

Will frowned and studied the side of the road, someone had definitely been through there recently. He signaled for his horse to stop and then dismounted.

Wary of running into any Temujai, he went slowly and was the epitome of silence.

That was when he stumbled (though not literally, because he's better than that) upon a camp of Camelot knights.

He was staring at the knights, just contemplating from the tree line of the clearing, when one of the men got ready to light a torch. Will knew that wouldn't be a good idea because the Temujai were most definitely searching the woods for their lost captive.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said. Wincing inwardly afterwards, Will realized that would sound threatening. Oops. Not his intention.

The two knights unsheathed their swords and looked ready for a fight. Will felt like smacking himself. _Great first impression, Will,_ his inner-Halt voice said in his mind.

"Who goes there? Show yourself." One of the knights, Will assumed he was the leader, demanded. Yeah, they felt threatened.

"Hey, hey, I'm not here to harm you. I'm a King's Ranger of Araluen. My name is Will Treaty." Will said after lowering the hood of his cloak. He smiled brightly at them. They didn't drop their swords.

"A Ranger?" The younger knight muttered. "What's a Ranger doing here?"

"Are you truly a Ranger?" The leader questioned, studying Will in cautious curiosity.

"Yes. I am." Will responded.

"Then prove it." The knight challenged.

Will frowned. Then looked around for a target. There, a moth was flying in the air a foot away from the younger knight's head. After the dark-skinned man swatted absentmindedly at the moth, the Ranger made his move.

Quick as the strike of a serpent, Will shrugged his bow from around his shoulder into his hands, took an arrow from his quiver, and he loaded, aimed, and released. The arrow sailed true and pinned itself in the bark of a tree at the other end of the clearing.

And Will was tackled to ground.

"What was that?" The leader practically growled as he held him down. Will could have knocked him off easy, but he felt like that would make it worse. He really didn't want to make any enemies where there didn't need to be.

"Look at the arrow." Will said simply. Just why was it that no one ever looked to see what the arrow hit before they retaliated? He thought back to his stay with the Bedullins.

The man who tackled Will shrugged his right shoulder in the direction of the arrow, and the second man just nodded before moving across the clearing. With a small exclamation of surprise, the knight said in awe, "It's the moth that was flying near me. He wasn't aiming for me at all." Only one of the famed Rangers from Araluen could have made that shot.

"'Course not." Will said as he was let up. Sitting up, he shrugged his shoulders to stretch them. He saw that the knight in front of him had extended a hand towards him. Will accepted and grabbed his bow from where it had fallen with his other hand. Once Will was up, they retracted their hands and studied each other.

"Well, Ranger Will. I had actually expected papers of some sort or an insignia to say you were what you claimed you were, but this proves it much better in my opinion." The leader grinned. "I'm Leon."

"And I'm Elyan." The other knight said, still across the small clearing and staring at the arrow that pinned the moth to the tree straight through its middle.

"Nice to meet you two." Will said pleasantly. "What brings you to this area?"

"There's actually three of us, and we could ask you the same question-" Leon was interrupted by loud footsteps heading straight for them.

Will tensed, expecting to see a search party of Temujai when it was another knight, burly as a Skandian, who entered the clearing.

"There's someone close by, I saw this strange horse, it was just _standing there_ without being tethered and I… who are you?" The third knight asked in confusion when he saw Will standing next to Leon.

"And that's Percival." Elyan decided he was done studying the arrow and joined them. He gestured towards Will, "This is Ranger Will Treaty from Araluen."

"Will Treaty? I've heard about you." Percival said, eyes wide.

"Good things, I hope." Will said with humor.

"Great things." The big knight responded with a grin. Leon and Elyan frowned, not sure what was going on. Although, they weren't always up to date when it came to news from other countries.

Leon coughed to gain their attention. "So, Ranger Will-"

"Just call me Will."

"Will, then. Why are you here?"

Will felt like sighing, he was the one who asked that same question first. But they were knights within their own kingdom, and he was a skilled fighter from another country. When it came to things needing to be explained, the scale would weigh more on Will's side than theirs.

"I am here on diplomatic business and I found one of Camelot's knights being held by a encampment of Temujai. A friend and I rescued him and they're on their way to the capital right now. I stayed behind to cover our tracks. Which is why I stopped you from lighting those," Will pointed to the torches, "because the light will bring attention to the search groups that are no doubt looking for me."

Leon only focused on the part about the Ranger finding a knight and immediately asked, "What was his name? The knight you rescued. And was he injured at all?"

"Gwaine. And from what I could tell, only a small graze on his leg."

Percival sighed in relief and mentally wondered about the almost magical way luck seemed to work around Gwaine. At least they knew he was safe.

"Alright! Pack up, we have to find them as soon as possible." Leon commanded his men. Luckily, there was little to pack up since they hadn't gotten far before Will had shown up.

"Got a deadline or something?" the Ranger raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that." Elyan answered, face serious.

Once they were done packing up and Will helped remove the traces of their short stay, the shorter man let out a whistle. Before any of the knights could ask why, a horse galloped into view.

"That's _your_ horse?!" Percival exclaimed. "I saw him a ways away and he wasn't tethered and gave me some trouble when I tried to help." He eyed the animal warily.

Will smirked as he ran a hand through Tug's mane. "Yes. And he doesn't listen to anyone but me, with the exception of a few others. He's very smart. Smarter than me some days." The shaggy horse nudged him with his head and snorted. "Okay, most days."

Percival nodded. Made sense from what he heard about Rangers. And the Ranger in front of him was one of the most renowned of them all.

They all mounted and rode away, following Will. The knights trusted the man, and mostly couldn't believe their luck. Their search was almost over. Soon they would be home, everyone safe and unharmed.

* * *

 **That's what they think.**

 **Thank you to** _ **flurt**_ **and** _ **Ballerninja**_ **for your reviews!**

 **Also, very important, here is a short 'what if' scenario about Percival's meeting with Will's best bud, Tug.**

* * *

Percival was just looking for firewood. Picking up a stick here, a small branch there. A large branch in front of him looked to be good firewood, so he bent down and broke it with his bare hands, didn't even need to break it against his leg or prop it up against the ground and step on it. No, the great big knight just held it in his hands and snapped it.

He picked up some good brush for kindling and noticed a horse just standing behind some bushes. The shaggy horse, that looked more like a pony to Percival, gave him a long look – the knight felt like he was being judged – and then turned away to graze on the tall grass.

"Huh." He realized that the small horse wasn't tethered to anything. "Are you lost, boy?" He questioned, not really sure why he said it out loud. It was a horse. And he was talking to it. Shaking his head at himself, he walked towards the horse and made to grab hold of the reins.

The horse danced away from him surprisingly quickly. Then from twenty feet away the gray beast tilted his head as if to taunt him. But that was ridiculous. It was a horse. Horses are just animals and do not have the ability to taunt people. Nevertheless, Percival felt slightly indignant and lurched forward to try again at catching the horse.

The horse stayed still until the knight was just inches away and then sidestepped him effortlessly and took off, neighing condescendingly from his new standing place thirty feet away.

"Alright." He frowned at the stubborn horse. Sensing that it wouldn't change anything to keep trying, Percival decided to get help. He couldn't just leave the horse there. "Don't get attacked by anything or stolen before I get back."

The little grey horse snorted, and the big knight could have sworn he was being laughed at.


End file.
